


In the Gardens

by JustDrinkTea



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Auguste Lives, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, fluff with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 04:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustDrinkTea/pseuds/JustDrinkTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I doubt your disappearance would go unnoticed,” Laurent countered, head tilting slightly. He was teasing. Damen couldn't get enough of it. </p><p>“Is that an excuse to not go?”</p><p>“It’s a challenge.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Gardens

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be real short and quick, and now look what happened

Damen could feel eyes on him.

This, of course, was not uncommon; being the Crown Prince meant that there would always be someone chancing a look. But a single look was all it ever amounted to. One could steal a glance at the Future King, but one also knew better than to stare. 

And yet, even through all the party and celebration around him, Damen could feel that someone was staring. Damen, in conversation with one of the many lords from the north, allowed himself a moment of distraction. He turned his head quickly, and easily met the blue eyes that had been so focused on him. A smile found its way onto the Prince’s face and he returned to his conversation, only to politely excuse himself. 

As Damen approached, Laurent made no attempts to hide his gaze-- eyes locked on him as the space between them lessened. 

When finally they were close enough, Laurent lifted a hand, a dangerous twinkle in his eye. 

Damen laughed lightly. He took Laurent’s long fingers against his palm, light as he could, and brought the hand gently to his lips. Smiling wider against Laurent’s skin, he took great amusement in watching the other fight to keep his composure. 

Though Damen was thoroughly enjoying the intimacy of the moment, this was neither the time, nor the place. As he released his hold on Laurent’s hand, he spoke-- his words friendly and fraternal. “You’ve grown taller since our last meeting,” he said, using Veretian. His statement stood true. Damen looked him up and down, admiring the way he had grown into his limbs, how his face had finally rid itself of the remainders of baby fat. Laurent would be 21 now-- just this year-- and he wore the age well, standing tall and proud.

“I should hope so,” Laurent replied easily. “It’s been four years since we’ve seen each other, though I’ve enjoyed your letters when you’ve found time to send them.” His words came out in Akielon-- accented, but barely so, and speaking as sharp as a native.

Damen was pleased, switching languages as well. “Your Akielon has also improved.” 

Laurent nodded, clearly pleased, himself. “I’ve spent a great deal of time studying. The books you sent with Auguste last fall helped.”

“You liked them?” Damen’s response came a little too eagerly. 

A smile crept onto Laurent’s lips, subtle. “I liked the ones about the naval heroes best.”

A comfortable beat of silence passed between them, and Damen thought about what it was he wanted to say next-- or rather, he wondered if he dare say it. Then, boldly, “Would you join me for a walk?”

Laurent’s smile turned to a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “A walk? In the middle of the celebration?”

Damen lifted a shoulder in a poor attempt at a shrug. “I would like a breath of fresh air. And I’m sure you wouldn’t be opposed to escaping the party for a moment.”  A slave came by, offering wine to the two princes. Damen waved them off with a single gesture. “No one would even notice we were gone.”

Laurent watched as the slave left, creating a pause in the conversation before his eyes flicked back to Damen’s. “I doubt your disappearance would go unnoticed,” he countered, head tilting slightly. He was teasing. Damen couldn't get enough of it. 

“Is that an excuse to not go?”

“It’s a challenge.” Laurent sounded sure of himself, like this had been his plan all along. “One gold piece says you can’t quietly slip away.” 

Damen blinked at him, surprised. But the Prince of Akielos was never one to back down from a challenge. His surprise dissolved just as quickly as it had appeared, looking and feeling as confident as Laurent. “Alright,” Damen agreed. “Be prepared to lose your gold, then.”

It was not, however, as simple as Damen had originally thought. In the time it took him to cross the great hall, he was asked twice to give his opinions on the newest trade routes between Akielos and Vere. Four more guests had inquired as to if he was  _ really  _ retiring at such an early hour. And finally, when he had almost made it through the crowd, Damen was stopped by Auguste, greeted by a grin and a clap on the shoulder. 

“Brother Damianos! Leaving so soon? I’ve yet to share wine with you.” 

“Only stepping out for a moment,” Damen assured him. “When I return we’ll call for pitchers, and finally settle score.”

Auguste laughed. “Ready to try and outdrink me? I guess it  _ is _ a good night for it! The drink is certainly flowing.” He glanced quickly around the room, gesturing vaguely to the many already-drunk-- or nearly-there-- patrons.

Damen nodded. “My thoughts precisely.” He took a step back, not so subtle about wishing to escape the room. “Though for now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Oh-- before you do!” 

Damen tried not to frown.

He was apparently unsuccessful. The Veretian Prince smiled apologetically, though Damen had a hard time believing he was actually sorry. “You haven’t seen Laurent, have you?” Auguste asked. “Jord has just told me the funniest joke, and I’d like to pass it along.”

“...actually,” Damen began. His eyes flicked away from Auguste’s guiltily before he remembered he had absolutely no reason to feel guilty for what he was doing; what was an innocent stroll between long friends, after all? But still. “He’s waiting for me outside.”

Surprise crossed Auguste’s face. “Oh.” And then something knowing. He had the same spark in his eye Laurent so often flashed-- the one that made Damen feel like he was missing something. Often he was. “Tell him to find me once you’ve finished, won’t you?”

Again, Damen nodded, banishing his confusion. “Of course.” And then he stepped away-- away from the crowds and away from the bustle of the party. Outside, night had fallen. Crickets chirped at a fast tempo, and the wind was pleasantly warm as it tousled Damen’s curls.

Laurent was waiting for him, sitting the edge of a nearby fountain, inspecting his nails. “Well that was a disaster,” he said without even looking up. “I thought you’d never make it out to join me.” He did look up then, standing as Damen approached him. He held his palm out, pale skin looking even lighter against the dark contrast of the nighttime. “I believe you owe me a sideris.”

“So it would seem. You’ll have to remind me later; I don’t carry many pieces on me for parties.” Damen nodded his head towards one of the garden paths and began walking, slowly. Laurent followed, walking to Damen’s right. The lamps had been lit for the night, burning bright yellow along the trail. The light from their flames made Laurent’s hair shine like fine, spun gold, and Damen found he was unable to look away. “Your brother was searching for you,” Damen said. “He would like to speak with you once we’ve returned to the party.”

Laurent kept his gaze on the gardens, occasionally reaching out to brush his fingertips against the branches of a bush. “If he’s still in a proper state of mind when we return,” he said with amusement. Damen chuckled. It was no secret that the Golden Son of Vere often let himself relax beyond what was considered reasonable during celebrations. “Did he say why?”

“He mentioned something about a joke he wished to share?”

Laurent made a face. “Probably a terrible one. My brother always did have the worst taste in humor.” He looked up at Damen. “Has he ever told you the one about the man from Marches?”

In response, Damen just shook his head.

“Good,” Laurent said. “Don’t ever let him, either. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” His shoulders began lightly, as they often did when he began to laugh, and he raised a hand to hide his mouth along with his chuckles. “He first learned the punchline and that’s all you heard for a week. The council nearly tossed him from a meeting they’d grown so sick of it!”

They had, without realizing it much, slowed to a halt, Laurent trying to quell his laughs still behind his hand. Damen found himself completely taken with amusement himself, though the origins of his humor was not necessarily found in Laurent’s story. Still, “I never thought Auguste to be so in love with jokes,” he admitted. Though he liked to think he knew his Veretian Brother well, they only ever found themselves in the same room a few times each year-- most of the time spent on official business. And because he was only second in line, Damen saw even less of Laurent.

“He’s the Crown Prince when he has to be. But you’ve known him much of your life-- you know he’s got a good nature.” Laurent paused, fingers playing idly with a flower hanging over the path, laughter calmed now, though still looking pleased. “...you remind me of him. In a few ways.” He plucked the flower, twisting the stem between his index finger and thumb, hypnotized by the way the petals twirled.

Damen took a step closer. “In what ways?” he pressed, curious.

Laurent thought about his response, Damen could see the workings of it on his face-- it was less like he was deciding on  _ what _ to say, and more if he wanted to say it at all. Damen opened his mouth, meaning to let Laurent know he didn’t have to answer, but was effectively interrupted. “You’re very… true,” he said with some difficulty, still looking at the flower in his hand. “True to your title… your people… I’ve never felt as though you were dishonest with me.”

Suddenly Damen realized he was no longer speaking of Auguste. 

“Laurent... “ Laurent didn’t look up. Damen continued anyway. “Laurent, I will always be true to you.” It felt like a confession.

With a breathy laugh, Laurent glanced up to meet Damen’s eyes. “Yes, I know,” he said as if it were obvious. And to him, Damen realized, it  _ was  _ obvious. He was struck by it all-- the intimate honesty of the situation. Again he made to comment, but Laurent found his words faster. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his words quiet. Warmth found its way onto Laurent’s face, coloring his cheeks bright enough to see even in the lamplight. 

Carefully, Damen reached out, fitting a hand against the edge of Laurent’s jaw. He held his breath then, waiting for Laurent to push him away, to reject this touch. Instead he sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into it as if enjoying the warmth of Damen’s palm. 

“I’ve missed you,” he repeated, voice even lighter now.

“It’s been four years.”

Laurent furrowed his brow, looking frustrated. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Laurent opened his eyes again and Damen felt him tilt away from his hand. He felt disappointment settle on his face, but as soon as Laurent lifted a hand to meet Damen’s, the disappointment was gone. Laurent curled his fingers gently around Damen’s, holding it awkwardly as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do now that he had it. But he spoke with confidence. “When I hit 14, you were already full-grown,” he said. “You and my brother both.” Damen rearranged their hands to rest more comfortably at their sides. “After a while I decided… I decided I didn’t want you to look at me like a child.”

“You  _ were  _ a child,” Damen said in an amused tone.

Laurent frowned. “But I am not any longer.”

“No,” Damen agreed warmly. “You’re not.” He leaned forward then, making his intent clear and watching Laurent’s reactions with caution. He could see the hesitation in Laurent’s eyes, could feel his pulse quicken beneath his fingers. But still Damen was granted a small nod, and he closed the space between them.

Laurent’s lips were warm on his.

At first, Laurent was stiff, but Damen urged him to relax-- he moved slow, and slid his free hand to Laurent’s waist. The touch seemed to comfort him, and Laurent exhaled deeply, the rest of his body following to release the stiffness from his posture. Damen couldn’t be sure how long they stay like that, kissing; but after what felt like too short, Laurent pulled back, breathless. 

“We should get back.” He did not sound like he meant to be convincing, nor did he look like he was convinced himself.

Damen smiled. “No one will even notice we’re gone.”

“They will,” Laurent said, raising an eyebrow. “And what’s more, they’ll start talking.”

“Is that another excuse?”

“It’s a challenge.”

**Author's Note:**

> Auguste didn't see Laurent for a long time
> 
> \---  
> I actually had a lot of fun re-imagining Laurent for this fic! Happy Laurents are my favorite Laurents haha   
> Thanks for reading!!  
> Find me @[Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/justdrinktea) and [tumblr](http://www.justdrinktea.tumblr.com)!


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